


Not Waving But Drowning

by callista1159



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst, Episode: s06e03 Descent, F/M, RST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-09
Updated: 2014-09-09
Packaged: 2018-02-16 19:34:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2281980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callista1159/pseuds/callista1159
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of Descent, Carter and O'Neill find a way to feel alive after drowning, and after losing Daniel.</p>
<p>One quick fic, unbeta-ed, the first I've written down in a decade. 1115 words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Waving But Drowning

She begins to realize, as he holds her gaze through the ice-blue water filling the compartment around them, that she has been waiting for this to happen ever since Daniel left them. Somehow, SG-1’s mythic status as the unbreakable team, the one that always came back - from the dead, sometimes – somehow that aura of invincibility has left them and she’s been waiting for her time. Waiting for something she can’t fix. She doesn’t know if O’Neill has ever had the same confidence or if he has always been this damn sanguine in the face of mortal danger. But right now, he’s just looking at her and that look tells her he thinks this is the end of both of them too. 

And then there’s a moment where her body takes over and it’s not about acceptance or regret or missing Daniel and she is screaming for breath; but suddenly, incredibly, the doors open behind her and the water is falling and she can breathe again. For the first time in a long time, she can breathe.

She realizes that she can’t do this anymore. 

* * * * * * * *   
It’s a long day and an even longer debrief before she is able to escape the mountain and head for home. Her head is spinning with the narrow escape; she’d never thought it would be water which finished her, but today she had believed it. So had he. She doesn’t know how she is supposed to play her role, to be his Major and second in command, when for the first time she believes that they might not come home from any given mission. He’d hardly looked at her after they landed the gliders and wound up in the infirmary being checked over. 

She couldn’t help but look at him, over and over.

She’s cold to the bone still and dog tired, but her mind won’t stop going to that moment, the look in his eye, the helplessness. The regret. She pretends, even to herself, even now, that she doesn’t know what that’s about and why he can’t bring himself to hold her gaze. It’s the Atanik armbands and za’tarc machines and ice planet all over again only this time she has no confidence that they’ll all still be standing when the dust settles. 

As she pulls up outside her house she is still arguing with herself about driving over to his place and asking him to tell her that it really will be ok and that this team, their new team, can pull together something amazing and survive against all the odds. The air is colder than her drowned skin and she wants to sleep for a thousand years until this all goes away.

He is, of course, leaning in that way he has on her front porch, confounding her careful reasoning and six years of self restraint. 

She doesn’t meet his eye but nods that he can follow her inside where it should be warmer (he doesn’t look cold), and then all hell breaks loose because he’s in her space and looking at her, really looking at her, and her breath is coming in short bursts like she’s run a marathon (or escaped from drowing), and he’s not giving her room to think, damn him, and they step inside the house and before she knows it she is clinging to him like the drowning woman she is, and he is stealing her breath with his mouth, fighting with her to stay afloat, to keep each other from sinking. 

She steadies herself for a moment against the wall and he steps back, eyes dark, wide, reflecting nothing. Carter, he says, Carter – 

But she has her life jacket and she’s damned if she is going to let them sink again now.

She pulls him back against her, feeling the warmth of him, the veritable heat of him against her, fighting the numbness she’s been feeling since the water. Her lips find his mouth as her hands pull the back of his head, creating shivers that have nothing to do with body temperature. His body is firm against hers and is steadied by him, finds a clarity of purpose in tasting him, feeling his certainty, his want.

She wants him, too.

His hands are at her waist, circling her, and as she kisses him she finds an answering heat that has her pulling him towards her bedroom, finding the skin of his abdomen, feeling him groan and his skin flush warmer, full of life. She thrills at the sensation of her palms on his chest, the race of her pulse as he explores her mouth, her body. Somewhere in her mind there a voice screaming the consequences but she needs so desperately to affirm her survival with him that she just kisses him harder and tugs his jacket from him. For his part he’s already found the skin of her abdomen between her t-shirt and pants, and is driving her wild tracing patterns there.

As they reach her bedroom, she is grabbing at him now, feeling the long lines of his limbs, the hardness of his body, all sinew and grace. He passes feather-light touches over her breasts and throat as he kisses her, long and hard and making them gasp for air all over again. They stop for a moment, gasping, breath heaving, but as she meets his eyes, finally meets his eyes, for a moment underwater again, drowning, they grab at each other’s clothes until there’s nothing left but skin and the lean lines of their bodies. Holding her gaze, he closes the gap between them and, sliding his hands through her hair, shares hot open mouth kisses. 

She pulls him backwards on to the bed and there’s a moment of falling before they tangle limbs, sliding together, gasping quietly. His mouth is at her throat and her hands leave marks in his back as he slides inside of her, stopping to watch her as she enjoys the feeling of being alive with him. Their shared warmth is slowly heating the block of ice inside her chest and she rocks her hips, carefully and slowly. He closes his eyes and moans a little, and she feels like she’s living for the first time in months, years maybe.

They explore each other carefully, registering gasps and low encouragement, perfecting their knowledge of one another. As the heat builds in her she finds something unbreakable that they share, this faith, and he’s shuddering now, breaking his rhythm, falling apart just as surely as she.

And in the silent stillness of the room she thinks she’s found a way to survive this after all.


End file.
